Double Helix
by SeveredMind
Summary: The wars have ended, but not without consequence. Heero finds himself torn between the dream of a new life and the haunting nightmares of a past that refuses to let him go.
1. Birth

Title: Double Helix

Author: Severed Mind

Pairing: Mainly 2x1

Rating: Eventually M

Summary: The wars have ended, but not without consequence. Heero finds himself torn between the dream of a new life and the haunting nightmares of a past that refuses to let him go.

Disclaimer: Gundam Wing is not mine, not mine, not mine.

Author's Note: Don't worry folks, I'm not giving up on my other stories, just been hit with some evil writer's block and school has been hectic. I thought maybe a new story would help spur my imagination. Leave plenty of reviews, I like the attention :P

Prologue: Birth

On the floor, leaves of paper and debris covered the scuffed tiles. Bits of wiring poked through the shattered light fixtures from the damaged ceiling. The abandoned laboratory was in complete disrepair, yet there still was the faltering drone of a dying generator filling in the silence. Hoses connected to the generator snaked towards a massive glass tube about the size and shape of a coffin left resting in the corner.

The room was dark save for a faint glow that emanated from inside those glass confines. Ribbons of light were reflected against the walls and ceiling, flowing in a wavy dance, indicating that there was some sort of clear liquid that filled the tube. In the liquid there lay a body, a human body, floating within the lucid tank. No signs of life could be detected from it, appearing to be asleep.

Its rounded face was mostly hidden beneath a sea of long hair while a mask, apparently used to provide oxygen, obscured the rest of its facial features. Its completely nude sinewy (and obviously male) body, bobbed up and down in the glass tank, almost peaceful. The generator sputtered with the last of its energy, unable to stay alive, and finally died with a puff of blackened smoke seeping out from its internal gears. Moments passed before the body jolted in spasms, oxygen deprivation clearly felt.

Hands suddenly began pounding and clawing at the glass. The furious jerks of his body twisting desperately inside the tank, somewhat slowed by the fluid which drowned it. Eyes that were once hidden were now opened wide and held panic in their depths. He had to get out, he couldn't breathe.

Unbeknownst hidden strength made it able for him to ultimately punch through the thick glass with one final slam of his right fist. The liquid now appearing to be more viscous, slopped onto the dirty floors, oozing out in disgustingly wet and thick splatters. Tearing off the useless mask, he gulped in his first fresh lungful of air before finishing his destruction of his glass coffin, not caring whether small cuts were being made all over his exposed skin. He simply wanted out of the claustrophobic space.

Once free, he stood in the empty room for a matter of minutes that seemed like hours, trying to take in everything. Trying to understand. Trying to remember.

'Where...am I?'


	2. Future

CHAPTER ONE: Future

"You up already?"

Heero just finished knotting his tie when the words were slurred out. He turned to face Duo who still lay naked in bed. Duo yawned and rubbed at his sleep filled eyes. His hair was unraveled, spilling over the expensive pillows, the sheets bunched up around his waist.

"Work," he said simply before getting back to dressing himself.

Duo squinted over at the alarm clock. Large red numbers glowed "5:15AM" right back at him. Stretching, he sat up, the sheets shifting some but remained covering the essentials. Over the years, his body had filled out and grown taller. He was no longer a teen but now a man built strong with hardened muscles that rippled when he moved.

"I guess this means no breakfast in bed together," he mumbled. "You know, this work thing of yours is starting to get on my nerves."

Heero smiled to himself. He ran a brush through his short cropped hair before putting on his Preventers jacket. Heero had filled out some, as well, though mostly remained the same in every other aspect. Unlike the rest of the former pilots, he did not grow any taller, most likely due to a mix of his racial origins and the experiments conducted on him by Dr. J.

"It gives me purpose," was his reply. Stepping out of the adjoining bathroom, he turned off the light then made his way to Duo and gave the man a small kiss on the cheek goodbye. Before Heero could leave, however, Duo reached up quickly and brought Heero's head down for a deep, feverish kiss. It left Heero's full lips reddened, his Prussian blue eyes dark with contained lust.

"But you already have a purpose," purred Duo, his eyes glinting with mischievous delight, "do I have to remind you of what that is?" He rubbed the back of his hand against Heero's warm cheek tenderly, reveling in the feel of that smooth, flawless skin. "Besides, we don't need a second income. My salary's enough to support us both with plenty extra to spend on whatever we want."

Heero shook his head, not wanting to go over the same argument with Duo. Though appreciative of what his lover was offering, Heero preferred to keep his job because working allowed him to feel normal, to lead a regular life, even a mundane one, like everyone else. Heero extricated himself from Duo's gentle hold and adjusted his uniform before moving for the door.

"Goodbye, Duo," he said, grabbing his duffle bag that was already set by the door, and took his leave of the roomy studio apartment.

Left alone in the apartment, his lover leaving him for yet another busy day at the office, Duo sighed heavily. He could understand why Heero wanted to keep working, but for once he wanted to take care of the other man, to be able to provide for him like any self-respecting boyfriend would want to do. Scratching his head, he let the issue go, opting instead to take a shower since he wouldn't be able to go back to sleep. He too would have to be at work soon.

Tired of following the stringent rules at Preventers, Duo aimed to be his own boss, going into business for himself. With the money he saved when he was still a Preventer, Duo resurrected the old scrap site that was on L2 and rebuilt it as a construction company that dealt mainly in colony building, repair and maintenance. Since the ever-growing population continues to be a big problem due to people procreating at such a rapid pace, residency is in constant and high demand.

When the Winner Foundation joined the fledgling business, Maxwell Co. grew to become one of the largest and influential enterprises, dealing mainly in the construction and architecture of colonies while the Winner Foundation took care of the technological support systems in simulated eco-life netted throughout the structures. Success blossomed for the spreading business. Duo himself watched over all the transactions conducted under Maxwell Co. as creator and president.

Stepping under the showerhead, he relaxed under the stream of pelting hot water; steam was rolling off in thick plumes of misty wisps. Squeezing some lavender scented shampoo onto his palm; he began to work up lather before rubbing the fragrant substance into his scalp. As thick soapy suds covered the length of his chestnut colored hair, he thought to himself of what a nuisance he had been by prodding Heero yet again about quitting. Duo made a mental note about getting Heero an "I'm sorry" gift to make up for the bother.

Grinning, he started to wash out the shampoo, excited about the prospect of seeing Heero smile for him when he received his gift. All that he needed to do now was figure out what he would get for his quiet companion.

That afternoon found Heero off of work and walking on the busy sidewalk along the city strip. The streets were crowded with the usual rush of people either out on lunch or mere shoppers peering in one store from the next that lined the streets. Heero easily maneuvered through the sea of bodies, duffle bag in hand, heading straight for the gym that was just about a block from the apartment. The doors slid open with a "whoosh," admitting him into the air-conditioned lobby.

He flashed them his identification card before going to the designated dressing room. Changing from his Preventers uniform, Heero exited the rooms in his signature green tank top and black spandex shorts, his yellow sneakers tied snugly. For an hour he lifted weights, another he worked on his aerobics. When it came time to leave, he thoroughly rinsed off the sweat accumulated before toweling off, then into some leisure wear compiled of a dark navy shirt and blue jeans.

Walking home, duffle bag in hand, he thought about Duo and their conversation that morning. Idly fingering the white gold band around his ring finger, the promise ring Duo had gotten him and a matching one for himself on their first anniversary, he reminisced about the days that were much simpler. Days that did not involve long-term commitments in any way. It was much easier then to just live in the moment and not worry about tomorrows.

Heero understood why Duo wanted him to quit, even thought himself selfish for wanting to keep his job, but the thought of piddling around the home all day like your common housewife or househusband was definitely not what Heero wanted to live out the rest of his days as. He liked being part of the solution and not the problem. He liked helping Preventers sustain the peace that he and his friends had worked so hard to achieve. It was his way to atone for his sins.

Though he did not feel that he was in the wrong, Heero wanted to help assuage the little argument earlier that day. He finally decided that making a nice homemade dinner for Duo would be the right way to make up for it. With that in mind, Heero contemplated that it would be easier to drop his bag off first, grab some extra cash, then go to one of the local markets for some fresh ingredients.

He watched on as that familiar face smiled softly at pleasant thoughts that ran behind those oceanic eyes that drowned him. A foreign glint caught his eye, drawing him to look down at the man's hand, seeing a silver colored ring wrapped around his finger. Something inside told him that the offending object shouldn't have been there. Unknown anger welled up and tightened in his chest, causing a flush to creep up from his neck and into his rounded cheeks. All at once he was filled with confusion, hurt, and…jealousy?

Hidden within shadows that were cast by the high buildings, he followed from alley to alley underneath a ragged looking blanket that was found in the gutters, any person that did see him just ignored him the best they could. No one dared to approach him about his odd behavior, thinking him nothing more than a street bum. Keeping his eyes on the shorter man, he followed him up to an apartment complex but stepped back to watch through the windows as the other walked up the flights of stairs to the fifth floor.

When his quarry came back out, he made sure that the other was completely out of sight and did not turn to come back, leaving him behind and hidden. Waiting.

Pausing, Heero turned and searched his surroundings with inquisitive eyes, the hairs on the back of his neck indicating something was wrong. Someone was following him. Resuming his walk, he shifted the bags of groceries to one hand, leaving the other free in case anything should happen. Moving up the stairs, he brought out his set of keys to open the apartment door, all the time keeping an ear out for anything and everything.

As soon as the door was opened, Heero threw the grocery bags to the side and turned sharply in time to ready a stance before the cloaked stalker lunged for him. The amount of strength the stranger had was incredible, knocking Heero down flat on his back, the momentum throwing him into the apartment. A hard thud and a slam could be heard, the attacker had kicked the door shut behind them. Heero struggled to stab the man with the keys that were still in his hand, but a harsh smack knocked them from his grasp.

With his attacker on top of him, Heero swung his leg up to kick him in the back of the head, making a solid connection that caused the man to grunt in pain and the tattered blanket to fall away useless. Waist length hair obscured the attacker's face from view, but it was unmistakably male. He had no other clothing other than the discarded piece of patchy cloth. The man backhanded him across the face, forcing Heero's head to snap to the side, and blood to well up in his mouth from biting the inside of his cheek when struck. He spat out the coppery taste, trailing a red splatter from his mouth.

The man readjusted his hold, grasping tightly onto Heero's wrists and pinning them above the Japanese's head. He sat himself on the smaller man's stomach to keep him from bucking and used his own legs to help pin Heero's knees to the ground.

"I'll kill you before I let you go…all I want to know is why, Heero? Why, dammit!"

The words were accusing and harsh, filled with rage and confusion as it was spat out low and gravelly from lack of use. No matter how hoarse the angry voice seemed Heero knew who it was…but that was impossible. He stopped struggling, leaving his body still under the man's hold. Shifting his head slowly to face the other man, his wide blue eyes stared into familiar amethyst hues that were peeking through a veil of chestnut colored hair.

"Duo?"

Author's Note: Reviews wanted. I need feedback to see whether this should be continued. Lots and lots of 'em.


	3. Confrontations

CHAPTER TWO: Confrontations

Heero tried to shift beneath the heavy weight, attempting to ease the painful pressure that was crushing his ribs, but this only encouraged the doppelganger to strengthen his hold on his smaller captive. Gritting his teeth, Heero focused on breathing, though he could only take in short, needy breaths at a time.

"What's wrong with you, Duo," asked the Japanese, his even tone belying the strain he was under.

Duo changed his hold on his wrists to one hand only, while using the other to grip tightly at the back of Heero's head. Grasping a handful of dark locks, he yanked Heero's head roughly, forcing the smaller man to look straight into his eyes. Amethyst hues, filled with rage and confusion, bore into Prussian blues.

"Why," he rasped, before shaking Heero's head almost violently when he would not meet his gaze. "You left me there…alone." The last words came out piteously. He nuzzled close to Heero's neck, lips barely brushing against the soft shell of his ear, the attacker's face twisted in anguish and sense of loss.

From enraged to utter despair, the exchange was dramatic from one extreme to another. It was rather unsettling for Heero to witness, to see a vast spectrum of emotions and behaviors to sporadically appear in a matter of instances over the face of his lover. However, the man's unpredictable nature, whether it was Duo or not, made him dangerous. It was apparent to Heero that this man was completely insane.

The man was not only unsound in mind, as Heero noted, but he was remarkably stronger than him, as well. He felt the side of his face throb in pain from where he was hit. Never before had he been truly injured by Duo, even when the man was using all of his force when sparring with him, the amount of force this man had been incredible. He could only suspect that this was an imposter. This was not Duo, his strength was unnatural. The likeness he bore to his lover, though, was unnerving.

"I don't understand. I never left you. What's happened to you, Duo," he asked, trying to perhaps reason with the larger man by humoring him in his charade. Undoubtedly, if he was to disagree as to his identity, then the man would only become angry once again.

"But you did. How could you be with him? You abandoned me. You betrayed me. You did, you did, you did…" the Duo-look-alike trailed off. Heero jerked in surprise as he felt a rough hand slide under his shirt to roam over his chiseled abdomen and sculpted chest, leaving his head free. The intrusive hand wandered over his skin, fingers tracing over the scars that lined his body.

"What are you—"

"Shhh…" hushed the doppelganger, cutting Heero off with a finger pressed against the Japanese's soft lips, no longer exploring his torso. "I forgive you, Heero, you know I'd forgive you for anything. I love you…you're mine," he murmured possessively before gripping the other's jaw tightly and pressing a harsh and urgent kiss over his mouth.

Heero renewed his struggles, trying to break from the kiss but the man's hold on his jaw was far too strong, almost crushing. At the feel of the other's tongue forcing its way into his mouth, Heero nearly choked on the invasive muscle. Biting down hard enough to hurt on the man's tongue, the doppelganger winced in pain with a hurt grunt before breaking the kiss. Duo reared back his head, Heero could see with satisfaction the blood that dribbled from the man's mouth.

Duo wiped at the trail of blood, then looked at the crimson smear on the back of his hand in disbelief that his lover actually wounded him. Hurt and then fury flared within him, flashing over those darkened purple hues. In a blur of speed, he slapped Heero hard across the face with a low, unpleasant growl. The small Japanese bit back a pained cry, refusing to give the unstable man any satisfaction by responding.

Both hands now descended upon him, roving over his helpless body, ripping off his shirt with a tug that was not gentle in the least. With his arms now free, Heero tried punching his attacker off of him, but the man deflected his attempts easily, not deterred at all in his quest to strip the Japanese of his clothing. When his hands reached for Heero's pants, gripping at the waist of his jeans, the Japanese started thrashing about in a last ditch effort for freedom.

Suddenly, the door was kicked off its hinges, causing the pair on the floor to stiffen in surprise at being caught unawares. Heero's eyes widened. He knew the man on top of him was a fake, but to actually see his lover standing in the doorway with a copy lying on top of him was another matter. Duo stood there, expression blackened in rage, his knuckles white as they gripped hard around a briefcase handle and another about a package, most likely his "I'm sorry" present for Heero.

The man on top of Heero regained his composure quickly, taking this chance to recapture the other's wrists in a tight grip. Swiftly, he made Heero stand up with him, placing the young Japanese in the front of himself as he held onto the other's wrists behind his back with one hand and the other he used to grasp Heero's neck, threateningly. Pushing a leg between Heero's legs so that he was forced to practically sit on the man's thigh, he made certain Heero couldn't try to kick at him, successfully disabling the man from being able to escape.

Duo glared at his copy, anger seeming to spill over his body in waves as the image of the two lying on the ground continually flickered in his mind. With gritted teeth, he muttered in a deadly tone.

"Get the fuck away from him."

Author's Note: Reviews would be nice.


	4. Escape

CHAPTER THREE: Escape

Duo took one step forward.

"I said, get away from him," he repeated darkly, the growl in his voice indicating he had no patience for lack of cooperation. Dropping what he was carrying, Duo raised his fists in a readying stance, in case the copy of him decided to try a surprise attack for him instead.

Heero mentally grimaced but his features only showed a slight frown as he was shifted upwards. The man behind him had tightened his grip on Heero's wrists, forcing the limbs up, almost to the point of dislocating the shoulders.

"Don't even," warned the copy, "I could crush his larynx before you can take another step." As if to emphasis his point, the man gave a squeeze to Heero's throat, forcing the Japanese to emit an indiscernible noise of discomfort.

Heero kept his eyes on Duo. Those dark blues shifted to the right side (Duo's left), then back again, as if trying to send a silent message to the other. Duo plastered a devilish grin on his face. It was his version of a blank mask.

Understanding what Heero was trying to tell him, he spoke in order to distract his doppelganger.

"If you think I'll just stand by and watch you take Heero from me then you're obviously more out of your mind than I thought," taunted Duo. "I would have said stupider than you looked, but what can I say," a nonchalant shrug, "we both know you can't insult perfection." He ended his words with a haughty flip of his braid, like a girl so caught up in her own superficiality.

Heero rolled his eyes.

"Do not mock me," bit out the copy, "I will kill him. Do not force my hand in this or—"

The doppelganger was unable to finish his words for Heero had jerked to the side, taking him along for the ride. Heero had grasped the man's leg that was between his with his own muscled limbs. Wrapping his legs tightly, he stiffened the muscles in his neck to reduce choking before swinging to the right with full force, utilizing the element of surprise to help catch the attacker off guard.

Even by stiffening his neck, Heero still gagged a bit as the hand pushed on his Adam's apple when he moved. A sickening, wet popping sound could be heard. His left arm was forced out of its socket, dislocated. The man tried to regain his balance though Duo had taken the opportunity to lunge in with a punch to the copy's face.

The quick hit to the temple caused him to see stars and his nerves to spasm reflexively, making him lose his grip on Heero. The former Wing pilot hurriedly ducked aside in a half roll on the floor, creating as much distance as he could between him and the copy. Out of reach, Heero took the moment to press the heel of his right palm against his left shoulder. With a forceful shove, he grunted in pain as he fixed his dislocated arm, cracking it back into place, giving it a languid roll to help loosen the sore muscles.

Duo and his copy were thrashing on the floor, but it was apparent that the doppelganger was gaining the upper hand even with blood dripping down from his now broken nose. By the time Heero got up from the floor, the man had Duo in the air, one hand holding him up by the throat. His other hand fisted and poised, ready to thrust a blow at Duo's face. Pushing off, Heero launched himself at the man, going for a tackle.

Heero collided into the copy, using all of his weight to shove him forward. At the same time, he grabbed hold of the man's long hair, jerking it downward and making the man's head whip back. Somewhat bent backwards, the copy could not sustain the odd angle he was holding Duo and had to drop him before his arm broke from under the braided man's weight. After the man relinquished his hold on Duo's throat, both him and Heero crashed through the sliding glass door and smacked into the apartment balcony railing.

The taller man tried using his height to overpower Heero, but the swift Japanese dropped low before giving him an uppercut right to the solar plexus. Winded, the man staggered slightly, but it was a flying kick to the neck issued by Heero that forced him over the edge of the railing. Everything seemed to go in slow motion as the man's body arced over the metal bars. His arms instinctively lashed out, trying to reach for something to hold onto, managing to grab the balcony edge barely in time.

Duo had come up to Heero's side, glaring down at the dangling man with disdain. His hair was mussed up, shirt torn with specks of blood dotting his white work shirt, and a swollen red bump on his left cheek. The bump was going to be a nasty bruise come morning. The copy looked up at Dup with hatred in his eyes, but once those identical amethyst hues fell on Heero, they turned desperate and pleading.

"We should call the police," suggested Heero, his face remaining emotionless as he peered down at the man. Something inside him felt a twinge. It was guilt. Looking down at the man's forlorn face he felt bad for what they had done, but once he realized the feeling he quashed it, telling himself it was only because he looked like Duo.

Duo shook his head.

"No, I don't think so." Without any time for Heero to respond, Duo stomped on the man's fingers and twisted the heel to add pressure. The bones in the hand made a brittle sound, giving under harsh stomp. As soon as Duo stepped back, the man fell toward the cement ground, a shocked expression on his face. As well was there surprise on Heero's.

"What have you done," exclaimed Heero, unable to keep the shock from his voice, whirling around to stare at Duo disbelievingly. How could he kill the man?

"Don't worry."

Hearing a faint thud, Heero whirled back around to see the man. He was perfectly fine, standing in the alley naked, gazing up toward the pair still perched on the balcony. With not so much as a word, the doppelganger suddenly ran for it down the sidewalk, pushing past unsuspecting bystanders and out of sight. A crowd had gathered around the apartment complex, nosy people were trying to see what the commotion was about, mumbling and pointing ensued.

Duo walked back into the studio apartment, reaching for the vid-screen.

"Who are you calling," asked Heero, though it sounded more like a demand.

Ignoring the Japanese, Duo dialed and waited for someone to pick up on the other end. When Quatre's face appeared on the small screen, his smile faded upon seeing Duo's solemn expression.

"What's the matter, Duo," he asked worriedly.

"I need you to gather the others. There's been a situation."

Author's Note: You know what I want, so gimme.


	5. Truth

CHAPTER FOUR: Truth

The tension in the car was almost palpable. Heero sat rigidly in his seat with an ice pack pressed to his shoulder, while Duo drove in uncharacteristic silence. Neither one said a word to the other. Both avoiding the man sitting next to him.

Running over the previous events in his head, Heero was still confused as to what to feel about there being an exact copy of his lover hiding somewhere in the city. Should he have gone after him? Even if he did, what then? What perturbed him further was the impression he gleaned from the confrontation: Duo seemed to know him.

He shook his head, refusing to believe that his lover would keep such an important piece of information from him. Yet, there lingered a niggling sense of doubt.

They quickly pulled up to the Winner estate and left their car in the care of one of the many hired hands. Duo took the lead, heading straight through the opened threshold and into the foyer where Quatre stood waiting, Heero only a step behind him. The Arab was dressed in a sky blue turtleneck and dark blue slacks. He greeted both of them with a hug and a smile, but his worry was apparent by his furrowed brows.

Next to the fair haired man was his quiet companion, Trowa, who greeted his old comrades with a shake of their hands. He was dressed in a forest green polo shirt, tucked into a pair of black jeans. Though most of them had grown, Trowa remained the tallest of the group. His build, like Duo's, had become thicker and less willowy.

Leaning against the railing of the grand staircase that spiraled down to the foyer was Wufei. The Chinese man was garbed in a traditional black and white changshan. Pushing off from the railing, he drew closer to the group, his arms crossed.

"What the hell happened?" demanded Wufei. "The both of you are covered in bruises and Heero's got an injured arm."

Though the pair showered and changed out of their bloodied clothes before driving to the estate, Duo in a simple red T with black jeans and Heero in a black T with blue jeans, their faces and arms still bore signs of their earlier scuffle with the duplicate.

Wufei looked pointedly at the ice pack the Japanese man was holding.

"Dislocated?"

Heero nodded.

The Chinese man shifted his attention onto Duo, his look not entirely friendly.

"Explain, Maxwell."

"I can't tell ya guys here," said Duo as he shook his head. Running a hand through his messy bangs, he sighed in frustration. "Can we move this somewhere more private, Quat?"

"Yes, yes, of course," replied Quatre as he motioned for the others to follow.

Ushering them all to the tea room, Quatre bade the awaiting butler to remain beyond the double doors before closing them. The room was instantly filled with a quiet lull, practically soundproof. The air of privacy was usually relaxing, but at the moment, it was almost suffocating. Instead of comfort, the men were swallowed up in unease.

After seating themselves in front of the stone fireplace on thick white sofa chairs, four pairs of eyes immediately pinned Duo with their gaze. The American idly rubbed the back of his neck, contemplating. His first few attempts at breaking the ice ended up in incoherent ramblings. Clearing his throat, he tried one last time.

"Honestly guys, I dunno where to start, but like they say, I guess it's best to start at the beginning, eh?"

Duo briefly glanced over at Wufei, causing the Chinese to frown. Heero noticed the almost imperceptible move, like they were sharing a secret message, but he hid his suspicion well.

"Yeah, well, y'all know that I did a short stint at one of the OZ bases" (dark slanted eyes widened in surprise) "and that I wasn't alone. I had Fei cooped up along with me for company and those mad brained geezers of ours were also there. At the time, OZ was forcing them to make new mobile suits for their forces. Do ya guys, remember?"

"Absolutely," confirmed Quatre, "that was when you two received your upgraded Gundams."

"Your Deathscythe Hell and Wufei's Altron. The ones the scientists managed to hide," added Trowa.

"Right, but our Gundams weren't the only things those crazy old bastards were up to. When I was caught, I obviously tried to book it at the first chance I got. That's when I bumped into them.

We got to talkin' and they convinced me to stay under the radar for a while. So they gave me a few whacks to knock me out and made it look like they were the heroes who caught the escapee. Consciousness wasn't the only thing they took from me, apparently."

The last part was spat out bitterly. Duo clutched his hands into fists, mottling the skin over his knuckles. He took a moment to regain his composure, but before he could continue, he was beaten to the chase.

"Maxwell, are you sure about this?"

It was now Wufei's turn to be stared at. The Chinese appeared strangely apprehensive. His typical mask of arrogance was replaced with a look of nervousness, which made for a rare sight, indeed. What completed his odd behavior was the flitting glances he was giving Heero, who maintained an impassive facade.

"Yeah, Fei, they need to know," sighed Duo in resignation. Sweeping his eyes over Quatre, Trowa, and Heero, the purple hues lingered on his lover. Resting his elbows on his knees and grasping his hands together tightly, as if in prayer, Duo lowered his head. "They took some of my blood and tissue while I was out and used it in one of their experiments. They made copies...of me."

A hush blanketed the room and everything was still for one uncomfortable moment. Duo peeked up at them from where he sat hunched, his face looked pained, obviously dreading their reactions. The first to do anything was Quatre, who placed a comforting hand on his friend's shoulder. The Arab gave a supportive smile, though the effect came a bit awkward given the situation.

"You mean," began Quatre in a hesitant voice, "like, clones? But, whatever for?" He seemed more curious than shocked, but tried to be delicate of the matter, considering the context. Quatre held no qualms over biological engineering, after all, his older sisters were products of genetic manipulation.

The factor that did sicken him about Duo's experience, however, was the procedure having been done against his friend's will and without his knowledge. That's what made it despicable.

Duo smiled appreciatively at Quatre's warm gesture. The smile faltered on his face when he turned to see Heero sitting with his head turned away from the others, the ice pack forgotten on his lap. Wufei had moved from his seat and was now kneeling beside the motionless Japanese, gently rubbing a hand up and down his back, mumbling something under his breath. An angry spark ripped through Duo, but he quashed it.

There was no reason for him to feel jealous against Wufei. Duo understood that the bond between the Chinese and his lover was a brotherly one. The two Asian men's close relationship had managed to blossom somehow on the battlefield when they were not even part of the same alliance at the time. If they were, it would have been easier to comprehend how their bond could have possibly been birthed from a sense of camaraderie. Instead, their bond developed while they were actually dueling each other.

After mentally shaking off the sudden jab of insecurity, Duo began again.

"You could call 'em clones, doppelgangers, whatever. I never found out how many there were exactly, but I know there was more than one. Professor G finally copped to the whole thing during the final shoot out with White Fang, while I had to carry all their asses across the whole battlefield. He explained that the idea was to expand on the research Doctor J was doing."

At the mention of his old mentor, Heero looked up, his eyes piercing—urging Duo to explain further.

"The Perfect Soldier Project was an actual experimental study meant to produce, well, perfect soldiers—superior killers, as it were. I'm sure you know about this part, Heero, seeing as how you were J's protege. After G confessed, I naturally assumed that your nickname wasn't just a coincidence."

Duo did not go into any more detail concerning his lover's past, after all, it was Heero's choice whether to divulge that sort of information. The knowledge he already had was almost more than the American could handle alone. By what Professor G told him, Duo could only imagine the tortures Heero had to go through while under Doctor J's sadistically twisted curiosity. If there was anything Duo could do for his love now to help heal those old wounds, sparing him the prospects of resurfacing memories was one thing he would gladly do.

"As to why they picked me instead of, say, Fei at the time, G said it depended on my having lived on L2 during the plague. Since I survived without the use of the vaccine, they saw me as a medical oddity and wanted to combine that bit of me with the Perfect Solider concept. With my contribution, they could create an army that was immune to human diseases. Their ambition to make so many was to help counteract the mass production of mobile dolls.

Even though G told me their reason, I just had to ask why. 'War,' he said, 'is Man's creation; it is Man's duty to take responsibility for the devastation He reaps.' In their eyes, mobile suits without pilots were like humans without souls; the dolls were the ultimate act of sacrilege, it was up to 'em to balance the equation."

When Duo finished, he slowly got up from his seat and stepped his way over to where Heero sat. Kneeling beside Wufei, he reached for the Japanese' hands and grasped the smaller ones tightly in his own trembling ones. The American gazed imploringly up at his lover's impassive face, his eyes beseeching.

"After the Eve Wars I tried locating all of the bases where they could have possibly hidden the copies, but each lab I could trace was completely destroyed. I thought there was nothing left, that the whole ordeal was over, so I decided to move on. When we started workin' together again, I debated on whether to tell you, Heero, but I couldn't bring myself to do it. We were startin' to get serious in our relationship, everything was going great, then the Barton Foundation started Operation Meteor and there wasn't time."

"Based on what you've told me," Heero's voice remained monotone, but the tightness around his lips gave away his emotions, "you've known for almost ten years, yet I'm only finding out about this now. Don't tell me there wasn't time. That man out there isn't just some impostor, but may truly be another you, or at least a part of you. He is a human being and what we did to him was cruel."

"But it isn't human! How can you defend it after what it tried to do to you? None of that thing is authentic! Its whole existence is purely unnatural, a mistake, an abomina—"

"How did he know me?"

"What?"

"If he was created at the time you say, give or take a few months, and has surfaced only now, then he shouldn't know anything about my own existence. Duo, that man knew who I was and seemed coherent on only one matter, that I had somehow betrayed him. How is that possible?"

Duo's hands stopped trembling, but his shoulders grew tense. Heero could practically feel his lover's body thrumming with nervousness. Pulling the taller man closer while leaning in, he brought a hand up to cup the side of the other's face, gently rubbing his temple with a calloused thumb. This little act of kindness seemed to calm the American for he immediately began to relax.

"Please, tell me."

Duo sighed, but nevertheless relented.

"I dunno for sure, but G kept hinting at the project's link to mobile dolls."

"Wait a minute," interrupted Trowa, "do you think Professor G might have meant they were using something akin to the ZERO system like the mobile dolls?"

A light seemed to dawn in Quatre's head, his eyes widening in epiphany.

"During the war, Dorothy Catalonia was using the ZERO system to guide the mobile dolls, perhaps that same program was formatted into your clones, Duo. It could explain the shared sense of consciousness between you and the other Duo. Whatever you experienced, he experienced."

Duo allowed for what Trowa and Quatre said to sink in before saying, "You guys might be onto something there. It did seem rather adamant about knowing Heero without having ever met 'im."

"Do you think those men were capable of developing, let alone handling, technology that advanced?" queried Wufei. "I realize they were brilliant," he stood up and made his way back to his chair, allowing Duo and Heero their space, "but I had always understood that their main talents laid with mobile suits, not biological engineering."

Heero pressed a light kiss to the back of Duo's hand before releasing him, which Duo took as a gesture for him to return to his own seat, and he did without a word of protest. Standing up, Heero tossed the melted ice pack onto the center table before walking over to stand before the stone fireplace, his face looking thoughtful. Remembering.

"The other scientists may not have been as adept, but Doctor J certainly was," explained Heero. "He dabbled with anything and everything that might have provoked his fascination, no matter what anyone else had to say about it. J may have helped them hone their talents towards his own goals because to him, everyone else is just a means to his ends."

Heero turned slightly and focused on Wufei. "The Perfect Soldier Project was J's manifestation, he was no doubt the ringleader. But..."

Wufei frowned in concern. "What's wrong, Heero?"

"What I don't understand is how did you know about all of this?"

Wufei instantly glanced over at Duo, who was avoiding his gaze as much as possible, but didn't make any move to stop the Chinese man.

"Well, I'm sure Maxwell will confirm this, but my knowing happened more or less by mistake."

"Mistake?"

"Yes. When Maxwell mistook our friendship as something more after the war against the Barton Foundation, he confronted me." (Duo cringed at the mention of his jealous ways, and despite the others knowing this particular trait of his, he still felt embarrassed about it at times.) "The moment I finally made it clear to him that I had no romantic inclination toward you, he confessed his concerns over this secret he kept, and sought my counsel. I advised him to tell you the truth, however, as the years passed so did the opportunities to do so."

Wufei sighed, as though releasing all of his frustrations out in that one upheaval.

"In all honesty, Heero, I had decided to tell you myself a few years ago, but seeing how your relationship progressed with Maxwell...I didn't have the heart to shatter the love and trust built between the both of you. I wanted to help protect your happiness, though I understand that seemingly good intentions ought never be used as an excuse to lie. I accept the responsibility for my part in this whole debacle and do not expect you to forgive me, my brother."

The rarely used, but heartfelt, endearment Wufei used in reference to Heero caused the Japanese to soften his expression.

"I understand why and do forgive you, brother."

The two Asian men smiled fondly at one another and it went unspoken that there would never be lies between the two ever again.

Heero redirected his attention to Duo, who returned his gaze apprehensively.

"Duo, it should go without saying that I do not blame you for what was done to you. I, for one, can relate to your hardship, however, the deceit must stop."

Duo quickly pushed off against his seat and enveloped Heero in a tight hug around the waist, being mindful of the other's damaged arm.

"I know, I was stupid, I should have told you from the beginning. I let fear get to me and I'm sorry. I was afraid that if I told you, somehow you'd see it as a reason to leave my side, that maybe I was a freak for what they did. I dunno, I can't make much sense of why I lied in the first place, but I know that I am truly sorry.

And not because I got caught, but because I broke your trust in me. But I promise, love, I'll earn your trust back. I'm sorry—so, so sorry!"

Duo's words swiftly broke down into sobs, causing Heero to raise his good arm in order to pat the other's back in comfort. Quietly, the other three started making their way out of the tea room so as to give the couple privacy. Once the doors clicked shut, the pair fell to their knees on the carpeted floor, still clinging to one another. Heero commenced to whisper soothing words to his lover, eventually succeeding in calming the man down.

"It's all right, Duo, I forgive you."

"I love you, Heero. I promise, no more secrets, I swear on it. I love you so much!"

"I know."

Reaching for the back of his lover's head, Heero gently pulled Duo in for a kiss. The sweetly chaste kiss took only a moment, but seemed to last forever.

"I love you, too, Duo."

**PAGE BREAK**

The medicine cabinet burst in a shower of glass, sprinkling the bathroom counter and floor with deadly shards. A dented can of shaving cream could be seen rolling away on the tiled floor. Greedy hands, one with obviously broken fingers, rummaged through the destroyed cabinet and pulled out a first aid kit. Splints and bandages were pilfered from the box, along with ointments and a bottle of pills; he shoved them into the pockets of his stolen clothes.

Maneuvering around the mess, he exited the bathroom, grumbling to himself about the annoyances of child-proofing. All he wanted was to get to the damned first aid kit, it wasn't his fault that this family decided to make it difficult for him. If only they didn't have little children, then he wouldn't have had to deal with such stupid contraptions. Especially since he was in a hurry.

Ignoring the fearful, but thankfully muffled, cries coming from the bedroom of his bound and gagged hosts, he entered the kitchen and promptly started raiding the refrigerator. Heaving his bounty atop the dining table, he first tended to his wounds before shoveling cold leftovers into his mouth. After taking his fill, he leaned back in his chair and stretched out his limbs, taking a second to relax before he would have to set out again. How good it felt to be clean, clothed and full once more.

But this was no time to be content for he had things to do.

He was on a mission.

He would take back what was rightfully his.

Author's Note: If you followed the timeline, you'll know that the men are 25 years old now. AC 195 Eve Wars. AC 196 Marameia. It is now AC 205. Just thought I'd clarify. Also, thanks to everyone who has ever commented and still comments (even when I seemed dead). Your support is well appreciated and is a breath of fresh air for me because it distracts me from my drama-crammed homelife. Thank you all!


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